Welcome Home
by jazzyproz
Summary: This is my entry for the 2016 Valentine's Day gift exchange. Brennan struggles to decide if, and how, to observe Valentine's Day, especially since, in her opinion, she and Booth have never celebrated... Sometimes, she just needs a little reminding about their past. Rated T for language and suggestive situations.


**A/N Hello and welcome! This is my contribution to the Bonesology Valentine's Day Gift exchange. My recipient is…..** **Frankie707** **!**

 **Frankie707 asked for:** _ **Brennan and Angela, maybe an appearance by Caroline; something that stays in canon, anytime post Booth & Brennan being a couple preferably happiness more in the line of fluff instead of angst. **_

**I hope you enjoy what JazzyMuse conjured up!**

 **I needed to take some creative liberty with Christine's age, as I wanted this set on the first Valentine's Day after she was born. Going strictly by real life months, she would be 10 months old, so that's what I went with and Christine is 10 months old for her first Valentine's Day… That being said, I broke canon by _not_ having Brennan get shot days before Valentine's Day...I hope you don't mind that alteration. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Bones, just this story.**

B/B/B/B

"So what are you going to do for Booth? I mean, he _will_ be back by Saturday, won't he?" Angela walked into Brennan's office, stirring her coffee. She paused to glance over her friend's shoulder while she worked and wrinkled her nose, noting the ridiculous number of emails waiting to be read.

The scientist looked up with questioning eyes, her brows knitting as she turned away from the tedious task of filtering through the weekend's worth of emails filling her inbox. "What?"

"Saturday. _Valentine's Day_ , Bren." Based solely on the blank look she was receiving, Angela knew that the clueless anthropologist hadn't even considered the timing of Booth's undercover sting. "He _did_ say he would be home by Saturday, right?"

"Well, yes," she cocked her head sideways. "When we communicated on Skype last night, Booth advised me that he would be home on Friday. But we do not celebrate Valentine's Day, Angela. So, aside from him being away from home for a whole week, the timing is inconsequential. Surprisingly, I _do_ find that I miss him more than I thought I would…and it's only been two full days since he left." She rolled her lips between her teeth. "I am very appreciative that he didn't have to cease all communications with me during this undercover job, as he has had to do in the past. Perhaps the difference now is that the FBI recognizes that we have a child together and thus, permits him to keep the lines of communication open."

"Wait, rewind." Angela sat down in the guest seat across from Brennan's desk, staring at her longtime friend in shock. "What do you _mean_ you don't celebrate Valentine's Day? _Every_ couple celebrates Valentine's Day. And now," she motioned to the photo of Christine and Booth on the desk, "since you have a child, it's even more important to set aside a little bit of _romance time_."

Brennan pondered silently for a few minutes before turning her pale eyes back to her friend. "What do you think I should buy for him?"

"Sweetie, I can't tell you what to buy for Booth…" She shrugged and scooted to the edge of her seat. "It might be a matter of not actually _buying_ anything...Y'know, you should do something for him that only _you_ can do…"

"Well," a coy smile spread across her lips and an uncharacteristically dreamy haze veiled her blue-gray eyes. "We engage in _very_ satisfying coitus regularly…" Her brows wrinkled in a sudden realization. "But technically I'm not the _only_ person who could provide that for him…" She shrugged and focused on Angela. "He _is_ a fine specimen of the male species… Many women are attracted to him and could easily…"

"What? Wait, no, Bren, that is _not_ what I mean…" Her mind reeled at her friend's observation about women being attracted to Booth. "Stop for a minute... I'm not talking just about sex."

"But it is my understanding that couples observing the fabricated holiday of Valentine's Day are expected to ultimately have intercourse…"

"Ok... First of all, _of course_ you and Booth have sex regularly…" The artist chuckled. "I would think there was something wrong with you if you didn't! Hey, if I had that hunk of FBI man-meat at my disposal, I'd be jumping his bones all the time…" She tilted her head and smiled at her awkward friend. "But, honey? You're a _fool_ if you think you're _not_ the only one who could satisfy him. He has eyes _only_ for you. _Period_." When Brennan seemed to consider her words carefully, and ultimately accept them, she continued. "I'm talking about more. Something that holds _sentimental_ value to the two of you. There are tons of things, I'm sure, that only _you_ can give to, or _do_ for Booth. Things that only the two of you share…"

"But," Brennan was filled with doubt that she should initiate any sort of special treatment on the holiday that was created by greeting card companies. "Now that we are finally together, we don't need to participate in a silly courtship ritual…"

"Don't you enjoy it when he comes to the lab without you knowing, and leaves little surprises on your desk?"

Brennan was caught off guard at Angela's revelation and her back straightened as her eyebrows rose to her hairline.

"Yes, I know about some of the things he leaves you…" Angela smirked. "There were a few times when you were down in Limbo, elbow deep in bones and ignoring everyone, when I came in to leave a file on your desk or grab something from your bookshelf, and I saw that he stopped by…" She sat back in her chair, noting the rosy flush that filled her best friend's cheeks. " _Unless_ you have another admirer who leaves presents for you..." Suddenly feeling playful, the free-spirited woman sat forward again. "In which case you should never, _ever_ tell Booth, because that man will shoot each and every secret admirer without an ounce of guilt."

"Of course I don't have secret admirers, Angela. You know that…" She shrugged one shoulder. "I just wasn't aware that anyone knew about the things he leaves for me…"

Watching Brennan's shy smile spread across her lips, Angela knew that the woman who had always denounced the need for romance had been undoubtedly sucked into the whirlwind and chaotic world of Boothy-romance; she just didn't like to admit it. _Or,_ Angela thought, _perhaps she doesn't know how to_ _initiate_ _the romance… She's always on the_ _receiving_ _end of it from her partner..._ Wanting to draw Brennan's attention to all the romantic things that she'd witnessed, hoping to spark a little interest in the scientist's desire to spoil her partner, the artist continued.

"This about the flowers he brings you at random… He knows you don't like big, bulky bouquets of roses or carnations, but he shows up with calla lilies, or daisies… daffodils in the spring… That little stuffed skeleton at Halloween tucked into the autumn arrangement… He brought you the beautiful cactus dish garden in the beginning of December…." At the mention of these items, both women let their eyes drift to where the potted succulent garden sat upon the bookcase, accompanied by a cartoonish-looking skeleton. "Point is, sweetie," she pulled her friend back to the conversation. "He does these little things because he constantly wants to show you that he loves you. But he _also_ knows you well enough to know that you are not a tactile person, and that you have a need to maintain your professional persona. So," she folded her hands across her lap, "he does what he can, now that he's finally _allowed_ to tell you how much he cares…"

"He tells me at home all the time, Ange." Brennan felt defensive that her friend would think she and Booth were not tactile with each other. "And we are _very_ affectionate in the privacy of our own home, Angela... He _knows_ I love him, just as I know he loves me..." The scientist remained silent for a moment, stubbornly lost in her own thoughts. "We've _never_ celebrated Valentine's Day in the past, so why should we start now," she muttered, almost quiet enough that if Angela hadn't been listening closely, she might have missed it.

"You _are_ kidding, _right_!?" The dark-haired woman gawked in disbelief. "You two have _absolutely_ celebrated Valentine's Day!" She pushed up from her seat and immediately started pacing. "Oh my God, Bren. You and Booth have celebrated Valentine's Day together almost every year since you became partners!"

"What!? No we haven't!" Brennan shot to her feet, not about to be towered over by her best friend. "We have _always_ agreed that Valentine's Day isn't even a real holiday. It's nothing more than a marketing ploy developed by greeting card companies in partnerships with florists in an attempt to generate sales and boost their falling profits amidst the extreme slump in which they found themselves following the Christmas holiday." She turned her nose up and folded her arms across her chest, silently warning her longtime friend against challenging her logic. As if to finalize her point, she shifted her weight and tilted her head. "The post office still delivers and the _banks_ don't even close!"

Never one to back down, not even from the imposing and occasionally terrifying Temperance Brennan, Angela squared her shoulders. "Brennan, if you think Booth actually believes that shit, you're _crazy_. All these years he has simply agreed with you as a sure-fire way to ensure you'd spend those evenings with _him_ , and _not_ with some loser who'd call at the last minute trying to get you to consent to a date that would undoubtedly end in a booty-call." When she saw Brennan's eyes go wide and then narrow in suspicion, Angela held up one perfectly manicured finger. "Now wait, just a minute. I've been diligently studying you two for years. And I _know_ what I saw." Feeling a wave of triumph before even launching her argument, she turned on her heel and walked slowly over to the couch, where she settled into the corner, making herself comfortable.

"What do you mean, _you know what you saw_?" The anthropologist's pale gaze followed her friend's movements, not missing her suddenly cocky swagger.

Folding her hands pleasantly in her lap, Angela's exotic eyes met Brennan's. "I _mean_ that there is absolutely _no_ mistaking the possessive, _alpha_ behaviors that Booth always demonstrated in the weeks leading up to Valentine's Day each year…." She knew she had Brennan's undivided attention, so she savored the moment by pausing for effect.

"You're making that up…" The scientist moved over to the couch, rolling her eyes. "Booth has never exhibited behaviors outside of his normal overbearing attitude just because it was February…"

"You're wrong, Brennan…" Angela smiled at her friend. "That man was crazy about you since Day One. On the first Valentine's Day after you became partners, he tried to be nonchalant about it when he was fishing for details of _your_ plans, but I could see right through his veiled excuses."

"I don't understand…"

She traced the hem of her lacy blouse and looked back at her friend. "Bren, he asked questions about what I was planning, he _avoided_ answering when I asked him about _his_ plans, and hell, he even pretended to have an interest in what _Hodgins_ was going to do before finally manning up and asking about you and whether or not I knew what you had planned…" She smirked. "If you'll remember, he hovered around the lab _all_ friggin' day that year, distracting you from accepting phone calls from would-be suitors and creating excuses as to why he didn't need to go back to the Hoover. Every single time one of us would mention the holiday, he sided with you, and even _defended_ your views of the holiday… By the end of the day, he was _conveniently_ still around, and voila, the two of you ended up having dinner together."

"It was only Wong Foo's, Angela," Brennan put up a weak argument.

"It doesn't matter _where_ it was, sweetie. What mattered was that the two of you shared your Valentine's Day meal _together_. Aaaannnnd, in the years since, neither of you were in relationships on Valentine's Day, so you always ended up together… Renting movies and having take-out, frequenting your favorite hang-outs… the _only_ year you didn't spend together, you were in Maluku and he was in Afghanistan. But _damn Brennan_ , the following year, you were hijacking Tommy Guns from the ' _Roaring Twenties'_ exhibit because you knew he was alone and feeling down..." She inhaled slowly. "Valentine's Day might have been 'created' as part of a marketing ploy, or whatever… but Brennan, is it so terrible to allow yourself to get sucked into a societal norm just one day a year? What harm could come from telling the man you love - that studly, sexy, lionhearted man who fathered your beautiful daughter and with whom you share an _amazing_ life - that you adore him and that you're thinking of him, _especially_ on February 14th?"

Brennan let Angela's words sink in as the memories of her partnership with Booth rolled through her mind, highlighting all the holidays they had, in fact, spent together. Rolling her lips, she felt a smile creep across her lips without permission. "Booth _is_ a very romantic individual… It _does_ seem unusual that someone like him wouldn't subscribe to the notion of Valentine's Day romance, even if it _is_ a fabricated, devised holiday." Creasing her brow, she sat forward anxiously. "You don't suppose that Booth doubts my feelings for him just because I've never participated in a traditional Valentine's gift exchange, do you?"

"Of course he knows that you love him, Sweetie. I mean, look at all the changes the two of you have been through, and you're standing strong... _together_. But Valentine's Day is a time when you can up the ante a little."

"Booth isn't allowed to up _any_ antes," she deadpanned. "He's a degenerate gambler."

" _Don't_ say it like that, Bren," she rolled her eyes but refocused immediately. "Ok, so no gambling references… Valentine's a time when you're allowed to be more _openly_ affectionate, or spontaneous, or daring, and _no one_ will fault you for it." She scooted closer to her friend, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "You could buy a saucy little lingerie set and surprise him when he comes home… Y'know, cook his favorite dinner… light a few candles… play some slow, romantic music in the background…" She licked her lips exaggeratedly. "Mmm-mmm-mmm… Agent Stud Muffin won't know what hit him…"

"Angela!" Brennan laughed. "I just told you, Booth and I don't need to engage in societal courtship rituals… We have a healthy sex life… _Trust_ me."

"Oh, I trust you, sweetie," she chuckled. "But it's not about the _necessity_ of mood setting, it's just about spoiling the person you love a little more than usual." She bit the inside of her lip, thinking for a moment. "Didn't Booth ever buy you a present for Valentine's Day?"

" _What_? No, of course not." Brennan dismissed the suggestion as if it was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. "We don't celebrate it, I just told you."

"Never?" A perfectly-plucked eyebrow arched in disbelief.

"No. OK, well, maybe once… or twice. But not recently."

"When? And what did he buy for you?" Angela demanded answers, not giving her wishy-washy pal even an inch to wiggle her way out of responding.

"Well, that first year, he gave me a card. But he said it was just a Partner-thing. He was worried, _before_ he knew of my views of the holiday, that if he didn't give me a card, I would be offended. I assured him that he never again needed to give me a card, because that unnecessarily supports the card companies at fault…"

"Honey, you told him you didn't want a card? _Ever_?"

"Yes." She felt no remorse at her admittance. "Why should Booth waste money on a card?"

Angela shook her head, wondering why she even bothered coaching her friend...

Not seeing her best friend's disappointment, Brennan continued. "The following year I was pleased that Booth remembered my wishes and did not buy me a card. In fact, we didn't even go out that year... Instead, he came over to my apartment with take-out, because I was working against a deadline for my editor… While I worked, he kept himself busy by hooking up my new flat screen TV and DVD player, which he had been hounding me to buy." She thought about that evening for a moment, smiling at the memory. "Once he had everything set up, he kept pestering me until I stopped writing and joined him in the living room so we could watch a movie." She raised her eyes back to Angela. "We watched The Quiet Man. It's a John Wayne movie that he bought for me, predicting that he was going to be setting up the entertainment system. **But** ," she held a finger up, "it was _not_ a Valentine's Day present. It was, as he termed it, a welcome-to-the-twenty-first-century-gift, which was quite humorous, considering the age of the movie itself..."

When Angela tilted her head in obvious doubt, Brennan pursed her lips, daring the artist to dispute Booth's explanation for the gift.

"On the third year of our partnership," she plowed on, not wanting to lose her train of thought, "he had Parker for the weekend." Brennan raised her eyes to the ceiling in thought. "He asked me if I would meet them for a picnic, because Parker made a card for me. And Booth made me promise not to metaphorically crush Parker's spirit by refusing to accept the card." She chuckled. "Parks was very excited, and I _never_ would've dismissed his present to me, but I made the promise to Booth anyway." She fiddled with the closure of her lab coat. "He made a red construction paper card with a white heart on it and inside he wrote ' _Please be my Valentime_ '... He even misspelled it, it was quite touching, actually... And he gave me a tiny pack of Hershey's Kisses and a little box of candy hearts that had sayings printed on them."

Listening to her recollection of that year, Angela couldn't help but smile as her heart pattered a little harder. "Sweetie, that is so cute…"

"Parker was always a thoughtful child…" Her cheeks blushed involuntarily. "He's very much like Booth… That day, right there in the park, we opened my box of hearts and ate them. Even though I was not very fond of the flavors, it seemed very important to Parker that we share them… We even chose sayings and handed them to one another."

"I wish I could've seen that…"

Brennan laughed gently. "In the subsequent years, Booth and I mostly just hung out at one of our apartments, watching TV or movies… eating from cardboard boxes… We did go dancing once, but only as friends, _not_ as a date." A veil of darkness fell across her eyes suddenly. "And then... two years ago…" Fighting unwelcome tears, she avoided Angela's eyes. "He was _so_ angry, Ange… He was hurting and bitter… Terribly moody…"

"Bren, of course he was hurting. He had just broken up with Hannah, he was certain he'd never have a chance to be with you… He's an alpha male; he _needs_ to be needed... _and_ wanted…" She reached over to cover Brennan's cool fingers. "But sweetie? You proved him wrong that night… You gave him _more_ than just a boyhood fantasy-come-true with a chance to fire a Tommy Gun… You gave him the greatest gift."

Her signature upside down 'V' formed in the center of her forehead as she listened to the artist.

"Without saying the words specifically, you told him that he was not alone. And that you still wanted to spend time with him, mood-swings and all. And that you were still on his side, no matter what." She raised one side of her mouth. "Essentially, you told him that you needed him, just as he needed you…"

Batting back an errant tear that escaped from the corner of her eye, Brennan nodded. "I almost lost him, Angela… I can't believe I was so afraid..."

"Don't." She shook her head. "Don't dwell on that. You two finally got your shit together and now look at you…"

"Yes," she nodded, regaining her composure. "We are fine now. And happy." She tilted her head. "Last year, I was seven months pregnant and not feeling well at all... He cooked my favorite soup and gave me a foot massage." She grinned impishly. "Then he painted my toenails… But you can _never_ tell him that I told you! He said the guys at the Hoover would 'rag on his ass' if they ever found out he was painting my nails." The ladies laughed and Brennan settled back against the couch. After a few silent moments, Brennan looked at Angela again. "All those take-out meals, the movie after he hooked up my TV, the day in the park… Those were all Valentine's dates, weren't they?" She asked a question, but it was more a statement… She already knew the answer.

"Yes... I would say so."

"I need to do something special for him… But I don't know what to do." With wide, pale eyes, Brennan leaned forward again. "What are you going to do for Hodgins?"

"It doesn't matter what I'm going to do for Hodgins, sweetie. You need to come up with something that only you can do for Booth, I can't influence you."

B/B/B/B

Brennan spent the next couple of days distracted to such an extent that by lunchtime on Wednesday, she told Cam she needed to take the rest of the week off. With Booth away on an undercover assignment, there were no new cases to work, and, although she had plenty of work to occupy her time waiting down below in Bone Storage, she opted to take personal days. If she hadn't, she would've simply stood by the side of her shiny, stainless steel work table, which was scattered with an incomplete collection of tannin-stained bones, and stared helplessly at the same rib bone for hours. After picking up Christine from daycare, she spent the remainder of the day browsing through stores on her way home, but she was unsuccessful in finding anything that suited her needs to show Booth that she loved him unconditionally. As she prepared dinner that evening, her phone rang and she knew instantly, courtesy of the distinct ringtone, that it was Booth.

"Hi, Booth," she greeted him with a smile as she stirred her vegetables. "You're calling early."

"Hey, Bones, is everything alright? Are you ok? Christine?"

The panic in his voice confused her and she glanced at their daughter, who was sitting happily in her baby seat on the kitchen island. "Of course everything is alright. Why?"

"Whew," he sighed. "Good. I called the lab just to say hi, 'cause I had a break. Cam said you went home early and took the rest of the week off. That's not like you, Bones, what's up?"

"Oh," she didn't want to reveal the true nature of her distraction, for fear that she would ruin any surprise she might manage to put together. "We're both fine, Booth." She eyed her fidgeting daughter and reached out, letting the baby wrap a tiny fist around her forefinger. "I think Christine misses you. She hasn't been sleeping through these past couple nights." This much was true; their little girl seemed to miss her daddy's good night kisses and stories, despite her young age and current inability to process story plots and character voices. "I thought that we could use some time together."

"I'm sorry I'm not home to help you with her at night, Baby." Booth's voice dripped with concern. "Why don't I speak to Cullen about getting somebody else assigned out here. All the other agents are well seasoned and they really don't need me babysitting them as AIC…"

"It's alright, Booth. It's only another couple days; you'll be home Friday, right?"

"Yeah, that's the plan. We'll wrap up our surveillance in the early afternoon and I'll drop the equipment at the Hoover on my way home. But I won't need to debrief with Cullen until Monday."

"Well, we'll be fine these next two nights, Booth. We'll have a little bit of mommy/daughter time. Perhaps I can begin a regiment of educational children's lessons to stimulate further brain development…" Her words faded away as Christine pulled her mommy's finger into her mouth and chomped down on it.

"Or," Booth didn't bother to hide his amused grin. "You can simply read to her… She really likes _The Adventures of Little Brown Puppy_ …"

Smiling at Booth's patient-voice, the one he used whenever she became a little too overbearing or overly focused on Christine's development, she nodded. "Yes, she does seem to enjoy all the mischief in which Brown Puppy seems to find himself…"

"I love you, Baby." Booth knew she didn't care for terms of endearment, other than his typical nickname for her, but from time to time he had to sneak in a little 'babe' here or a 'baby' there… Just to keep his balance.

"Booth," she rolled her eyes, knowing that no matter how often she argued that fact that she was no longer a baby, he wouldn't stop. Secretly, she was starting to become more and more accustomed to the monikers, even to the point of anticipating when he might slip one into a conversation. But she would _never_ admit it, because he would think he had won the battle, which he had, but he didn't need to know that… With a deep breath, she chuckled. "I love you, too. We both do."

"Give Christine a kiss for me. I need to pull an all-nighter tonight, so I won't be able to call. I gotta head out in about fifteen minutes. But I'll call you in the morning, ok?"

"Be safe, Booth. We miss you."

"G'night, Bones. Love you."

He disconnected the call and she turned back to her dinner, savoring the richness of his baritone timbre as it echoed through her mind. Knowing she still had 15 minutes before he would be leaving for his duty, she circled around behind Christine's infant lounge seat and brought her face alongside her child's. Extending her arm to it's furthest length, she took a photo of the two of them and quickly texted it to Booth with a simple message. _We both love you and look forward to seeing you on Friday._

Within seconds, her phone chimed a reply. _Thanks, Baby. The pic is just what I need 2 get thru 2nite. Love n hugs 2 both my girls_.

 _Yes_ , she mused as she read his cryptic text, ignoring his reference to her as a 'girl'… _He loves pictures of his family_ … As if a metaphoric light bulb suddenly illuminated, Brennan knew instantly what she would do for Booth's present. She smiled at Christine, noting the prominent dimple that was so perfectly Boothy. "Your daddy loves photos, doesn't he? Should we surprise him with special pictures, Christine?" She knew the child had no idea what she was saying, but at the mention of 'daddy', there was no mistaking the little girl's smile had broadened.

Picking up her phone, Brennan dialed the number she knew by heart. "Angela? I think I know what I want to do for Booth… But I require your assistance…"

B/B/B/B

Friday afternoon couldn't come quick enough for Booth. He was chomping at the bit to get the hell out of the one horse town where they'd set up their surveillance and get back home to see Brennan and Christine. His fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently as traffic into DC moved along at a crawl. If he'd better planned his day in advance, he wouldn't even need to go to the office. But since he had hidden Brennan's and Christine's presents in his office safe, he needed to stop off there before making his way to the house. He knew Brennan didn't like Valentine's Day, and she didn't subscribe to the notion of dedicating one day a year to showing someone you love them, but this year, Booth said the hell with not buying presents or with disguising them as partnerly exchanges… He was with Brennan all the way - they owned a mighty hut and had a beautiful daughter. And he wasn't about to let this Valentine's Day pass without buying a present for both his girls. He just wished that he hadn't hidden them at work, because if he had put them somewhere in his man cave, he would already be home.

Finally reaching his highway exit, the anxious agent maneuvered through the crowded streets and eventually pulled into the Hoover parking garage. He emptied the equipment boxe and files from the back of his SUV and headed up the back staircase, determined to get in and out of the office with as few people seeing him as possible. Of course, luck was not on his side.

When he reached the third flight, he heard his name echoing up the hollow space. "Hey, is that you, Booth?"

Grumbling and not slowing his pace, he plowed on. "Nope. Not stopping, Sweets. I am _not_ here." The heavy footfalls closed the distance behind him.

"I saw you pull into the garage as I was getting ready to leave. I just wanted to make sure everything went alright with your undercover assignment… I know this was your first one without Dr. Brennan…" The young doctor was breathing heavy by the time he finally caught up with Booth on the fourth landing.

"It was fine, Sweets. It was surveillance. No big deal." The senior agent continued walking up, his sights aimed on the fifth floor door. "Now, go away, I don't have time to chat."

"Well, I'll just walk with you a bit…" He trotted to keep up, constantly amazed at Booth's excellent fitness and health condition. "Have you spoken to to Dr. Brennan? Do you know how she fared with you being away?"

Slamming the door open, Booth huffed in frustration as he exited the stairwell and entered the back of the bullpen. "Of _course_ I spoke to Bones, Sweets. Are you some kinda idiot? She's my partner." Shoving the box of equipment at Sweets as the younger man came to stand beside him, he fished in his pockets for his office keys.

Accepting the box that was thrust at him (not that he had much of a choice in the matter), Sweets watched Booth as he pushed the key into the lock impatiently. "She's _more_ than a partner, Agent Booth… You two need to find a label to-"

Grabbing the box and pulling it forcefully from the psychiatrist's grip, Booth growled. "We don't need to re-label anything, Sweets. She is still my partner. Y'know, the word 'partner' has more than one meaning… you should look it up." He glared at Sweets over the box, but made no move to go into his office, because he didn't want to be followed. "Now, go away. I just need to drop this off and grab something and then I'm outta here." When Sweets made no move, Booth's jaw ticked. "So _goodbye_ , Sweets. Don't you have someplace you need to be? It's Friday night for Christ's sake."

"No." Sweets grinned. "Nowhere to be tonight, but I _do_ have a date tomorrow."

Booth noted that the kid seemed eager to talk about something, but he didn't have the patience that evening. "Ok, well, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here, so," he cocked an eyebrow pointedly, "leave."

"But, aren't you even the least bit curious about –" Sweets felt crushed at Booth's dismissal.

"Nope. Not now. Go hang out with your hot chic roommates, or their friends, or whatever it is you kids do these days… But it doesn't concern me. I need to get home."

His shoulders slumping, Sweets realized that Booth meant business… The agent clearly wasn't interested to hear about his personal life… With a sigh, he nodded once. "Yeah, ok. You're right… I'm sure you're anxious to see Dr. Brennan."

"Mm-hmm," he nodded again while dead panning his gaze, " _and_ Christine."

Understanding his friend's temperament, Sweets shoved his hands into his pockets. "Ok, well, have a good weekend. I know the you and Dr. Brennan don't observe Valentine's Day, but I hope you have a relaxing weekend."

"That's the plan," he shifted the box to his hip, ready to finally enter his office. "See ya next week." He pushed through the door and shoved it closed with his foot, ensuring that the 12-year-old pain-in-the-ass didn't follow. Booth dropped the equipment box onto the filing cabinet beside the sofa unceremoniously and turned towards his safe. His sole focus was on the retrieval of the hidden gifts and then sneaking back out of the office before anyone else saw him.

Once again, Lady Luck was against him.

" _Seeley_ Booth!"

The thick, instantly-recognizable Louisiana accent invaded the quiet of his office without warning, and certainly without invitation. Booth squeezed his eyes shut as he kept his back to the door; he would not escape from the wily attorney quite as easily as he had gotten away from Sweets.

"Look at you, dressin' all casual and smellin' all nice." Caroline Julian sashayed into the office without apology, a charming smile plastered on her lips. Sitting down in one of the guest chairs in front of his desk, she folded her hands on her lap. "Now, how 'bout you tell me what you learned on your little outing this week?"

"Caroline," Booth finally turned to face the woman, a little surprised to see that she was already seated comfortably. "Can't we discuss this on Monday?" The exasperation in his voice was clear, and if he wasn't careful, she'd accuse him of whining. "I'm tired, I haven't slept well in days… I haven't even had a chance to analyse all the intel we gathered; it's gonna take time to compile it into anything that resembles a report..." He shoved the little boxes he withdrew from the safe into his pockets and tried to hide his annoyance, because if there was one person he definitely didn't want to piss off, it was Caroline Julian… She was the epitome of the old saying that 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'… "Let's schedule a meeting for Monday afternoon, huh?" He moved over to his appointment book and flipped it open to the following week.

"Oh, come now, cher, I _know_ you've got _some_ insight about what you've gathered… You _always_ have an inclination before you review everything… And most times you're on the right track." She scooted forward in her seat, eyeing him sideways with a sly grin as she played the bashful fan. "That's what I _love_ about you and your infamous gut feelings, Seeley Booth." Batting her eyes unabashedly, she wondered how long Booth would tolerate her presence. "Can't you give me a little glimpse into your brilliance?" She grinned. "Even a teensy, weensy, little bit?"

Suddenly suspecting she had some ulterior motives, Booth honed in on his previously praised gut-feeling. Raising first his eyes, so he could look at her from beneath his heavy brow, he slowly raised his head and sat back in his chair, letting the lumbar support sooth his aching lower spine. He folded his arms across his chest and raised his chin. "What are you up to?"

"What?" She feigned shock. "What are you talking about?"

"Caroline. You know this case is a long-term deal…we were only gathering info… The details we uncovered aren't gonna be enough to build any kind of solid argument on their own; we need to bring folks in and question them. You _know_ all this. And," he sat forward and braced his elbows on his desk, his dark eyes unwavering. "You _also_ know that I have a specific method to organizing intel once it's gathered... And that method doesn't include speculation this early in the game…"

Caroline's nostrils flared involuntarily as she inhaled, frantically trying to think of an excuse to keep him in the office a little longer. "I don't know why you think I'm up t'something. I am o- _fended_ , Agent Booth" she snapped his full title out and noticed when he flinched. " _Your_ job is to debrief after undercover jobs. _My_ job is to prosecute guilty parties. It's a symbiotic relationship you and I share, in case you didn't know." She added a touch of unnecessary sarcasm to her voice, hoping that once all was said and done, he would forgive her… Booth was her favorite agent on staff, and the one she knew would always deliver exactly what she needed when they came down to the wire… She didn't want to insult him beyond repair, but knowing that he could never turn down a challenge, she played to that alpha aspect of his personality. " _But_ , if you don't think you're _capable_ of formin' an educated _preliminary_ analysis without _pourin'_ over all the _boring_ notes and recordings, then I s'pose I'll just have to wait 'til your pretty little brain is ready…"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Caroline," he pushed up and walked over to the box, reaching in and extracting a file. " _Fine_." He clenched his jaw and missed her stifled grin as he flopped back down into his seat. "It looks like Johnson is the ringleader and-"

His sentence was cut off when the door to his office swung open. "What're you doing here, Booth?" Cullen stood just inside the office. "I thought we agreed that your debrief could wait until Monday…"

Caroline spun in her seat and shot daggers at Cullen, her eyes aflame and her jaw ticking in anger at the interruption. To her dismay, however, Cullen was not shaken… The brazen US Attorney prosecutor had, over the course of her career, learned that the Director couldn't be intimidated, no matter what she did. But that never stopped her from trying. "Director Cullen, _I_ asked Booth to provide details of his operation. He is here at _my_ personal request." She pushed to her feet and faced the older man.

"Aww, c'mon, Caroline, let the man go home." He noticed from the corner of his eye that Booth was more than eager to leave, as he was already closing the folder from which he had just been reading. "You can join us in our meeting on Monday if you're free. I believe it's scheduled for," his gaze moved to Booth, who was now standing, "what, four o'clock, Booth?"

"Yep." Remembering who he was addressing, he felt his face heat with embarrassment. "Er,m, yessir."

"There," Cullen turned back to Caroline. "Join us at four in my office. Let my agent go home now."

Unable to justify going against the Director's indirect order, Caroline swallowed thickly. "Well, cher, if you insist…" She turned her eyes back to Booth, noting his hand as he opened and closed his ever-present lighter anxiously. "Very well, Seeley Booth, looks like you're free to leave…"

"Great," he practically skipped over towards the door, indicating that everyone should get the hell out of his office. "I'll just lock up," it was a little more bold of a suggestion, "and I'll see you both next week…"

Cullen clapped Booth's shoulder and acted upon the unveiled invitation to leave. "Have a great weekend, Booth. Give my best to Dr. Brennan and that cute little baby of yours." He turned his attention back to Caroline, not quite trusting that she would actually let Booth leave if he didn't do something more. "Caroline, let me walk you back to your office, then I'll walk you to your car. I am sure you don't want to stick around here all night…"

The Cajun woman squared her shoulders, again, unable to deny the Director's command. With a not-so-silent harrumph, she pursed her lips. "Why, thank you cher… _Such_ a gentleman…" She stalked past Cullen and glanced over her shoulder. "I am lookin' forward to your report on Monday, Booth. By then I suspect you'll have had plenty of time to compile some tangible evidence I can add to my files…"

As soon as she and Cullen turned the corner of the hallway, she couldn't help herself from backhanding him across his shoulder. "Thanks a lot, _Boss-man_!" She didn't give him a chance to react as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Ignoring his question and demands to know why she hit him, she held up her hand in front of his face, silencing him immediately. Speaking into her phone, she shared the news.

"Listen, cherie, I wasn't able t' stall 'im no longer…" Her angry eyes flashed up at Cullen as her accent turned even thicker. "We wer' _rudely_ interrupted an' now yo' _Special Agent_ is on his way 'ome already. So 'nless someone else stops 'im 'tween here and the garage, and if they do, so help tha' poor soul, y'all should 'spect him home shortly..."

B/B/B/B

Angela had barely exited the driveway before Brennan saw the headlights of Booth's truck pulling in. She turned to where Christine was sitting on the counter in her little bouncy lounger, and she straightened the little dress that she had picked out special to welcome Booth home. The dress was red with white hearts and she wore little ruffled socks and booties that said "Be My Valentine" on the bottoms. Her little white bib was covered with tiny red and pink hearts and the words "Daddy's Girl" were printed across the front in a child-like font. At first, Brennan had doubted Angela's suggestion of dressing up to welcome Booth home after only a week apart, but now that he would be coming through the door any moment, she felt her heart flutter. Tapping on Christine's little button nose, she leaned close and whispered, "Daddy's home." And although Christine didn't understand the words that were being said, she responded as she often did to Brennan's voice, with a smile and hearty chuckle. At the jingle of the keys in the front door, Brennan spun on her heel and felt a smile pull her lips wide.

"I'm home!" Booth called out, not expecting his girlfriend to be standing right there by the island, with a clear shot of the door opening. His breath hitched, she was a sight to behold… His eyes traveled down the tall, curvy shape of her body, which was snugged into a gorgeous red dress, the type of which left scant little to his imagination… Kicking the door closed, he dropped his bag and moved into the room, crossing through the living room and closing the distance to her immediately.

"Welcome home, Booth," she smiled softly, her head tilted to the side.

His eyes swept across her pale features as he met her smile with a kiss. "Hey, baby." With his hand on her hip, he pulled back and glanced down at Christine, who was grinning back at him, blowing bubbles in greeting. "And hello to you, too, baby girl," he scooped his daughter out of her seat, pulling her to his chest for a cuddle. He pulled his partner close again for a quick moment, breathing her into his lungs as his eyes did the same, filling his vision with her gorgeous blue eyes. "You look beautiful," he whispered.

Brennan was pleased that Booth was affected by his homecoming welcome. The scientist's smile grew involuntarily and she chuckled as he pulled her into another one-armed embrace. Grinning, she looked up at her partner. "I know that we do not typically celebrate Valentine's Day, Booth, _and_ I know that it isn't until tomorrow, but this year…" She rolled her lips nervously and shrugged one shoulder. "This year I wanted to do something special to surprise you." She reached out and fingered the heart-covered ruffle of Christine's dress.

"I love it. Coming home and finding both of my girls dressed to the nines…." He winked, once again waiting for the reprimand to his moniker, but it never came. Instead, he watched as she blushed, the rosy color in her cheeks almost bright enough to match her dress. The timer on the oven drew his attention from the hypnotic hold her blues held over him. With an exaggerated expression, he looked down into the happy face of his baby and he grew animated. "Oh my goodness! Did Mommy cook dinner, too!?" The baby squealed, not caring what her father said, just happy that he was talking to her.

Brennan turned away and stepped over to the oven. "I made a special dinner to welcome you home." She smiled.

Booth continued speaking to Christine while ultimately directing his conversation to his partner. "And it smells like something Daddy loves, doesn't it?" He tickled his daughter. "Yes it does…. I bet I can tell you what it is before Mommy even opens the oven." There was no doubt in Booth's mind that Brennan had cooked him some of her amazing mac 'n cheese, and he couldn't' wait to dig in… It had been months since she made it because she had been harping on him about his cholesterol levels and refused to add to his ever growing habit of filling his body with unhealthy food.

"You know, scents can be deceiving, Booth," she kept her back to him, trying to school her features. "It's a new recipe I've been wanting to try." She glanced quickly over her shoulder. "Chickpea and mushroom vegan meatloaf with Asian baked tofu…" She turned away from him again and stifled a giggle successfully as she pulled on her oven mitts.

It was all Booth could do to not drop their daughter. "Uhh, what?" The happy expression he was wearing seconds before seemed to have melted away. " _Vegan meatloaf and tofu_?" He wrinkled his nose and then pulled Christine up to his shoulder, as if he was protecting her against her mother's cooking. "Bones… Um, babe, listen…" His mind raced to find an excuse to get out of eating fake meat...and tofu - a substance which, even after being around Brennan for a decade, he still had no idea of it's actual ingredients. "Me and the guys, we, uh, grabbed a bite-"

His words were cut off when she spun around from the oven, holding two crocks, each perfectly golden brown and bubbling where the cheese had melted to the ceramic. "Oh," she tried to look innocently disappointed. "You ate? Then you won't want your macaroni and cheese?"

A broad, charming smile spread across his face as he met her sparkling eyes. "You're mean." Laughing, he looked at Christine, who was busying herself trying to eat his shirt collar. "Your Mommy's got a mean streak, sweetheart…"

Bursting out laughing, Brennan moved the crocks to their plates. "Booth, I wouldn't make you eat vegan meatloaf…" She poured the wine that she had already opened, allowing it to breathe. "Well, at least I wouldn't tell you before feeding it to you…"

Adoring her nerdy sense of humor even more, Booth settled Christine in her highchair and reached for Brennan, crushing her to his chest. "I love you, Bones."

Kissing his cheek lightly, she winked. "I'll get Christine's dinner out. Go ahead and sit down, Booth."

With his partner's back to him as she pulled out a jar of Christine's favorite fruit, Booth slipped the little box from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of her seat. He quickly turned his attention back to Christine and winked conspiratorially. "Shh…" He held a finger up to his lips.

"What?" Brennan called over to him, thinking he was speaking to her.

"Nothin'." He smirked. "Y'know, I think she grew in just the week I was gone." He was playing with her chubby little fingers when Brennan re-joined him at the table.

"Children do tend to grow at an exceptional rate when –" She stopped, mid-sentence and looked at the little box that was now occupying her place-mat. "What's this?"

"Well," he raised one side of his mouth and smiled, his dark eyes dancing. "I figured if you're giving me my Valentine's Day dinner now, the least I can do is give you a little something…"

Brennan wasn't expecting a present. They had agreed long ago - no presents. Despite the fact that she, herself, had ignored her own proclamation against the exchange of anything that might support the big box stores or card companies, she wasn't expecting Booth to have planned something. She should have known better… He had been more and more lovable the week preceding his departure - but she had chalked it up to his impending undercover job. "But… We said no gifts…"

"Yeah," he leaned his elbows on the table, very sure of himself. "I know…. But when have I ever really followed rules?"

Suddenly excited to know what was inside the package, Brennan moved her bright eyes back to the neatly wrapped box. It was obvious to her that he hadn't wrapped the present ( _she'd seen enough of his wrapping jobs to know he couldn't square a corner or match a pattern so seamlessly to save his life_ ). He had it gift wrapped… "What is it?" She whispered aloud, studying the silver-on-silver floral pattern.

Booth chuckled. "Open it, Babe."

Permission granted, she wasted no time slipping her finger beneath a fold and tearing open the paper. Surprised at her own eagerness, she laughed, glanced at Booth briefly and then finished her task. Lifting the lid from the box, Brennan was silenced at what she found - a ring with scrolled designs engraved around the band. Suddenly speechless, she just stared at the gift, getting a closer look at the engravings. They were actually little dolphins, connected nose to tail, around the entire edge.

Worried that she would get the wrong idea, and not wanting her to think he was pressuring her into an engagement that he knew she still wasn't ready for, he reached across the table and extracted the ring from the box. "It's just a ring, Bones." He presented the shiny platinum jewelry from between his thumb and forefinger. "To tell you that I love you… Everyday I love you more and more, Temperance." He took her hand and slipped it onto her _middle finger_ , having purposely bought the item too large for her ring finger. _The ring finger_ , he had told himself when he was choosing her gift, _is reserved for that day when she is finally convinced to take that final step_.

Swallowing tears, she watched as he slid the ring into place, unable to voice her appreciation in his thoughtfulness… She noted that it felt perfect on that finger, and instantly knew he had done it on purpose. Raising her shiny eyes to him, she launched from her seat and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love it, Booth. It's," she looked at her own hand over his shoulder. "It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received." She pressed her lips against the side of his jaw. "I love you."

"I know, baby. I love you too."

Somewhere, deep down inside, she still marveled at the fact that Booth loved her, and she caught herself wondering on occasion, _especially_ after she ran from the law six months prior, taking his daughter from him, if he still _really_ loved her as much as he used to.

A hungry squeal from the smallest Booth-family member, brought her parents out of their moment. With a huff, Booth looked at their little girl, who seemed to be focusing intently on the jar of peaches Brennan had placed on the table. It was as if the child thought her willpower alone would draw the jar closer.

"Are you hungry, pumpkin?" Booth looked down at Christine but held Brennan's hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. "Don't you want your present too, honey?" He produced a second box from his pocket, wrapped identically to Brennan's, except this one had a pink ribbon wrapped around it.

Of course the child didn't want her present, she wanted her peaches… Her big eyes, identical to her mother's, simply moved between Booth's face standing over her and the jar that was just out of reach… not that she could have done anything with the jar anyway… she just knew it produced food.

Settling down for dinner, Booth took turns eating his own supper and feeding their daughter. Brennan had offered for him to just enjoy, after all, he had been away from home for an entire week and was surely eager for a home-cooked meal. Booth's argument to let him feed the baby was exactly that - he had been away from home for a whole week and now he wanted to enjoy the simple things in life.

B/B/B/B

Dinner complete , dishes washed and away, and Christine settled for the night, the partners sat on the couch before the fireplace, talking softly.

"Her bracelet is adorable, Booth." Brennan was admiring the child's bracelet Booth had chosen for Christine's first Valentine's gift.

"Yeah," he sipped his scotch and tightened his arm around her shoulders. "I know she's too young for it now… But when she grows up a little, she'll wear it... And she'll treasure it... And one day, she'll remember that her first Valentine's Day jewelry came from her Daddy… _not_ from some punk kid who buys her a Cracker Jack ring…"

"Booth," she admonished. "You're not going to be one of those fathers who scares away all her boyfriends, are you?"

"You're damn right I am, Bones." He was only half joking. "She's not allowed to date until she's twenty-five."

"Booth! That's ridiculous! I was twenty-two when I –"

"No, no…. She's _never_ having sex. Ever."

Brennan laughed, knowing that Booth wasn't serious. "We will raise a smart daughter, Booth. Don't worry." She patted his knee patronizingly and snuggled against his neck as she looked down at her hand. Pulling away, she kissed his cheek. "I'll be right back."

Assuming she was excusing herself to use the bathroom, Booth sat quietly and watched the fire, finishing the rest of his drink. When she returned, he was surprised when she placed a wrapped box on his lap. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned like a kid. "Bones?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, Booth." She slipped onto the cushion next to him.

"But you already gave me a gift, baby," he wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. "You cooked me an amazing 'welcome home' dinner." His thumb swept across her cheek as his fingers cradled her jaw. "You bought Chrissy that adorable little dress and her bib…" He moved his finger down and traced along the collar of her dress, letting his eyes trail along the smooth column of her throat. "You wore this for me…" He growled softly and leaned forward, pressing an open mouthed kiss to her neck. "And you smell so damn incredible, baby…"

"Mmm," she responded to the touch she'd been missing for a week. "It's a new body spray… I thought you'd like it…"

Nuzzling his nose against her ear, he pressed a kiss to her jaw. "You know me well, Bones."

She chuckled and reached for the box resting on his thighs. "Well, then, hopefully you'll like this…" She tried to sound confident, but inwardly she was nervous, and it showed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

He took the box from her hand, torn between feeding his desire for her by taking her right there on the couch or satisfying his curiosity in seeing what she bought for him. "I'm sure I'll love it," he winked and started tearing into the corner of the package. Booth could practically feel the excited anxiety rolling off his partner; she rarely surprised him with a present, and it was clear she was nervous to see if he liked it. The agent, however, had no doubt whatsoever that he would like it, no matter what it was.

When he lifted the lid, he smiled broadly. "Bones," he looked at her and then pulled his present from it's box. "This is awesome." He grinned and flipped the power switch for his new digital frame, innately knowing his brilliant woman would have charged it for him. Sure enough, it flickered to life immediately and the small screen was filled with an image of the two of them, taken at one of the Jeffersonian dinner galas. The photo gradually faded into a candid shot of Brennan holding Christine in the back yard, and that one was soon replaced by Parker's. It was obvious as the pictures changed, that Brennan must have asked Rebecca to send some shots of Parker, because Booth hadn't seen many of them. As they watched, he noticed shots of Brennan and Christine in the same outfits they'd worn for him that evening.

"I love this," he placed a kiss on her cheek. "I can put this on my desk at work. Some of these, you just had taken?" He referenced the newest images as they continued to fade together.

"Yes. We almost didn't have time to finish," she grinned. "You came home earlier than I thought you would…"

Immediately, he knew his partner had tried to be sneaky. "You recruited Caroline into trying to stall me, didn't you?!" He eyed her suspiciously.

"I did," she blushed and chuckled. "But apparently she was unsuccessful in her endeavors…"

Booth laughed out loud. "Well, she was almost successful. Cullen is the one who ultimately released me. Guess next time you'll have to involve my boss, too."

She laughed and then pointed to the tissue paper still in the box atop his thighs. "There's more."

"More?" He placed the frame on the end table to his side and pulled out the charger, placing it alongside his present. Reaching into the package, he pulled the wrapper aside, unveiling a second frame, this one a little smaller. "Really? A second one?" His eyes sparkled. "Maybe I can put one on the front of my desk and one on the back…"

She smiled demurely and raised her eyebrows. "Turn it on." She pointed to the power switch.

"Yeah, ok." He nodded and pressed the button. As the pixels came to life and the first picture filled the screen, Booth nearly swallowed his tongue. His partner filled the frame… his very beautiful, very sexy and barely clothed partner. Before he could utter a syllable, the photo faded and the tiny monitor was filled with yet another, equally scandalous pose. The pale lavender lingerie, what little there was, hugged her curves deliciously, causing Booth's eyes to bulge and his mouth to start watering. Still speechless as the images changed again, he was stunned by a beautifully lighted photograph, in which it was crystal clear to him that she was completely naked, but thanks to the artistic eye of the photographer, her body was concealed perfectly.

The artistic eye of the photographer…

The photographer…

Someone else had seen his partner like this… In nothing but her God-gifted birthday suit.

"Bones," he whispered, tamping down the possessive alpha was that threatening to rip through his chest. He stumbled over his words as the image switched again and he was looking at his partner's bare back as she glanced over her shoulder at the camera. His eyes traveled the straight line on her spine from her neck down to the curve of her bottom, where it faded into the darkness of the photo edge. "Fuck," he whispered in awe. "You're gorgeous…" He raised his eyes and looked at her, noticing the blush creeping across her cheeks. "I mean, I've always known you're beautiful… But," he looked back down at the frame, and at the new image. "Jesus, Bones… These photos… They're…"

She traced her finger along the frame, admiring her own image and happy with the final outcome of their sitting. "I don't think this frame is suitable for your office…"

His eyes flared, "hell, no, this ain't goin' to the office," he looked back down as another lingerie-clad image. Remembering the concern before he was rendered speechless by the pale canvas of her skin. "Hey, Bones…" He clenched his jaw. "Who - ahh…" He practically salivated at the next shot, one in which she was laying on their bed, the sheet barely covering her inviting hills and valleys. He licked his lips. "Who took these pictures?" He cracked his neck. "Because, ah…. It's pretty obvious that, uhh…. you were naked…"

Recognizing his concern by nothing more than a glimpse of his ticking jaw, she rested her hand high on his thigh. "Don't worry, Booth," she licked her lips and ran her fingertips up even higher. "It was a very professional photography shoot."

"Bones," he warned her, hearing her teasing tone.

"It was Angela." She wanted to put him out of his misery. "She has an excellent eye, don't you think?"

Booth put the frame down on the table next to the first one and pushed to his feet, pulling her up with him. "I think," he cupped her hips and pulled her in for a kiss, speaking against her lips, "I wanna see what you have hidden beneath your dress." He crushed her against his chest and covered her mouth with his, swallowing her moan.

Brennan rubbed her hands along the firm planes of Booth's chest, aiming upward to his neck, so she could wrap her arms around him. "Well," she finally tilted her head, inviting her partner to move his attentions down to her throat, a particular focal point she knew he liked. "I guess you'll have to unwrap your final gift to find out…"

"Oh yeah?" He nipped playfully, starting to push her backwards, away from the couch. "And what, pray tell, _Dr. Brennan_ , is my final gift?" His voice dropped half an octave and he felt his body harden.

With a throaty chuckle, the kind she knew spoke straight to Booth's groin, she threaded her fingers between two of the buttons on his shirt. "I'll give you three guesses, _Agent Booth_ …" Recalling one of his playful remarks, she slipped a button through its hole, opening his collar a little more, while she pinned his dark eyes with a sultry smirk, "and the first two don't count."

Picking her up as if she weighed no more than their daughter, he turned and marched up the staircase, aiming for their bedroom. "Hmm…" He hummed as her mouth assaulted his jawline. "I think I'll just bypass my first two guesses…" He pushed into their room and lowered her feet to the floor, letting his hands gravitate towards the zipper closure of her dress. "And I'll just start here…"

 **Postscript A/N**

 **I had so many ideas flooding my brain for this challenge, I hope you enjoyed the scenario I settled on writing. Whether or not you observe Valentine's Day in one way or another, I hope that you all have a wonderful February 14th!**

 **Please take a moment to review, I love hearing the various thoughts and insights that different passages seem to invoke. Also, please keep an eye out for the other V-Day entries that are being posted out here and take the time to read and review the works of my fellow writers; we get no revenue other than your feedback, and it keeps us going!**

 **peace & love, my friends, **

**~jazzy**


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